


All The Better To Smell You With

by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief Derek/OMC, But not explicit, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Post-Season/Series 06, Scenting, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/HaleHathNoFury
Summary: A post-break-up Stiles finds himself standing on the front step of the rebuilt Hale house. He needs a place to stay and Derek has always accepted him as a member of his pack and one of his best friends. The only problem is, now that Stiles is seeing clearly, he's suddenly realised that maybe he never got over the pesky crush he had on a certain sourwolf and being in the same space is just going to make things awkward.Or is it?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 84
Kudos: 758





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarigoldVance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldVance/gifts).



‘Oh.’ Lydia had frowned and Stiles’ stomach tied itself in a knot about as big as his fist. He’d agonised over the choices affordable to him, desperately hoping that whatever he picked, Lydia would love it because it had been chosen with her in mind and showed just how much Stiles loved her. 

‘It’s too small, isn’t it.’ He had drooped, looking sadly at the simple white gold ring with it’s modest emerald cut diamond. 

‘No.’ Lydia had sighed. ‘When you said we needed to talk, I thought that…’

‘What?’ Stiles had felt like he wanted to fall through the floor. The restaurant was one of her favourite in Cambridge, discreet and eye wateringly expensive. He’d been pleased he’d gone with it, knowing that at least the candlelight and booths would hide the worst of his humiliation. ‘Did you not think this was a possibility?’

Lydia had given him a look that was full of understanding and sympathy and somehow that was even worse. 

‘I thought you’d realised that this wasn’t working.’ Her eyes had lowered and her hands twisted in the fine linen napkin. ‘That neither of us are as happy as we thought we’d be.’ She looked up and her green eyes were shiny. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Damn.’ Stiles had slumped in his seat, blinked once, twice and then had a moment of appalling epiphany as it hit him like a shovel in the face that she was absolutely right. 

Now six months later, here he was standing on the front step of the rebuilt Hale house, blinking rain water out of his eyes and wondering why his feet had brought him there and not to Scott’s house in LA, especially seeing as Noah was on a conference down in Sacramento and so not even at home. Stiles was aware that they’d drifted apart and not kept in touch the way they should have while he’d been doing his criminology degree. Sure, he and Lydia had come back occasionally to help out, but it hadn’t been the same. Scott and Chris were off in LA most of the time and so Derek had taken over Beacon Hills. An encounter with an alpha two years earlier trying to take on Scott had seen him gaining back his alpha power and then re-establishing his pack. Scott hadn’t really cared too much, more concerned with building his child army and living off his True Alpha reputation, but Stiles knew it had been Derek who’d been quietly bringing packs together in an organised fight against the hunters and his status as a full-shift Hale, the heir to Talia and her power. The change in him had kept going and now four years down the line from the Anuk-Ite and the demise of Monroe and Gerard, Derek was a strong, sober alpha who loved his small pack fiercely and who’d been one of Stiles’ closest friends. 

Isaac had come back first, his time in France well spent. He’d grown into himself and now was working with Derek on pack allegiances and building a network of wolves that could be called on to help in the fight. Jackson and Ethan split their time between London and Beacon Hills and Cora was home on weekends now she was studying at Berkeley. Kira even dropped in when her time away from her sisterhood allowed. The pack house had lost it’s new veneer and become well worn and lived in and Stiles took a deep breath and opened the front door. 

‘Hey.’ he called, taking a tentative step inside. ‘Anybody home?’

He got three steps into the front hall, shucking his sodden jacket, when he sensed more than heard the presence behind him. He turned and found Derek leaning in the living room doorway, barefoot and dressed in an inky blue henley that made his eyes glow. 

‘Hey Stiles.’ His smile was fond. ‘How long are you here for?’

‘Long enough.’ Stiles sighed and Derek nodded. 

‘Your room’s where you left it.’ he said. ‘You had dinner yet?’

‘No.’ Stiles was so pathetically grateful. 

‘Okay.’ Derek straightened up. ‘Go get out of those wet clothes and come down when you’re ready.’ 

He disappeared across the hall into the kitchen and Stiles shouldered his duffle and went upstairs. His room was the third on the right of the central corridor that ran either side of the landing and he’d been touched when Derek had casually dropped into conversation that he had his own space in the new pack house. Not only that, but it was right next door to Derek’s. That had brought up far too many feelings that he’d kept tamped tightly down all these years but now, as Stiles opened the door and stepped inside, they started to nag at the back of his head. 

Scott had been too busy to hold his hand through his break-up with Lydia. His dad had tried but it had ended up being Derek on those late night calls and messages. Stiles wasn’t too proud to admit it had hurt like hell, but afterwards he had to admit that they hadn’t been working. Lydia was ambitious, too ambitious to be satisfied being anything less than extraordinary, whereas Stiles was starting to realise he wanted to be the guy behind the scenes. The FBI appealed to him enormously because of that and he’d already been approached by someone higher up about a so-called ‘special project’. People in the know about the supernatural were a valuable commodity in law enforcement it turned out. He’d need to be with someone who would understand that he need to be all over the country and not let the distance grate on them. Lydia, for all that he loved her, was not willing to expend the energy if there wasn’t something in it for her. Stiles couldn’t fault her for being that driven, and now he appreciated her honesty when he’d thought that the way to patch the distance between them would be to propose. 

He set his bag down and wrestled with his wet sneakers before stripping off and padding into the ensuite bathroom. There were fresh towels and plenty of hot water to soothe him and Stiles showered and thought about how nice it was to have someone to do this for him. Derek’s alpha instincts, far better focused the second time around, meant he took pride in taking care of his pack. 

He got out, drying off and pulling on sweats and a threadbare t-shirt that he’d stolen from Derek the last time he;d been there. Him being pack had just kind of happened when Derek had become an alpha again. Stiles had half expected there to be some animosity over his acceptance of Derek’s offer, but Scott hadn’t so much as batted an eye. It was just another nail in the coffin of his estrangement from someone who’d been his best friend. Now his best friend was the woman he’d wanted to marry only six months before and Stiles was having a moment of regressing right back to being sixteen and getting a hard on over the moody werewolf who'd slammed him into walls. At least now he could control himself enough that Derek wouldn’t have to know. 

Downstairs he found Derek in front of the stove, making tomato soup and grilling cheese sandwiches and Stiles’ stomach growled loudly. 

‘Sorry.’ He grinned sheepishly as he took his place at the kitchen table, huge and made from scarred wood and probably a hundred years old. 

‘I’m guessing you didn't eat on the drive down.’ Derek gave him a smile over his shoulder. 

‘No.’ Stiles lifted his head, sniffing the air and then freezing when he realised what he was doing. He’d picked up far too many wolfy habits. ‘Where’s Isaac?’

‘He’s gone to go see a pack out east.’ Derek said. He came to the table with a bowl and a plate stacked with sandwiches. ‘You want a beer?’

‘Sure.’ Stiles accepted the food happily. He started eating, making happy noises when a frosty brown bottle appeared in front of him. ‘Thanks man, you’re the best.’ It came out muffled through a mouthful of sandwich and Derek snorted. 

‘You’ll choke yourself.’ he admonished, going back to the stove. ‘Swallow then breathe.’

‘That’s what she said.’ Stiles snickered and then ducked the dishcloth lobbed in his direction. 

-

Stiles decided to stay for a week. Noah would be gone that long and he didn’t feel like hanging around an empty house when he could stay with Derek and keep him company in Isaac's absence. It was comfortable and Derek didn’t skimp on food or home comforts, almost as if making up for those fraught years when he’d lived in ruins and out of his car. He’d even gone back to New York and cleared out the apartment he’d shared with Laura and brought their things back. 

He sighed and looked out at the rain. It had been persistent since he’d arrived and Stiles was bored with staying inside. He was already having issues because Derek was around all the time and now that he’d gotten over Lydia, Stiles fixation was back in force. He noticed everything Derek did, the way he smelled. He spent far too much time studying the new laugh lines around Derek’s eyes, the freckles that bridged his nose and the sleeker alpha bulk Derek had. His strength was now quieter and more confident and one thing Stiles adored was a confident beautiful person. But he couldn’t let his newly rediscovered feelings jeopardise what they had, the friendship that he’d come to rely on so much and so he bit his lip and went to bed frustrated, waiting until morning to jerk off furiously in the shower. 

He looked up at the ceiling, wondering what Derek was doing in his room. Probably something better than standing pining at a picture window. 

-

Derek stood and glared at his reflection. 

‘No.’ He narrowed his eyes at himself. ‘This is not negotiable.’ 

Sadly, his reflection had no answers and Derek let out a frustrated growl and got into the shower, turning the water on full so he could cover any sounds he might make. He made it quick, feeling guilty as hell for not being able to control himself but the wolf wanted what the wolf wanted and what Derek wanted was a mate. 

More specifically, what Derek wanted was Stiles as his mate. 

It had started right after he’d become an alpha again. That first time, Derek had recognised Stiles’ mate potential but he;d been traumatised and disgusted with himself for even looking at someone underage and so he’d thrown Stiles around and tried his hardest to scare him away. To his horror, Stiles had proved himself to be trustworthy and loyal to a fault and Derek had buried himself even deeper in denial. It was probably why he’d been susceptible to Jennifer’s magic, falling even as she used all the things he found attractive about Stiles to manipulate him. Then he’d tried to give it another shot with Braeden, so far from what Stiles was that Derek had thought it might actually work. But then every time she did something that wasn’t the same he’d judged her and finally it had dwindled to nothing as Derek had realised she’d never give him the loyalty and love he craved so badly, too involved in her own desires to really consider his. By then, Stiles had been with Lydia and Derek had been pleased because it meant he could finally move on. That had meant attempts at dating and even a half-hearted fling or two but finally he’d given up and resigned himself to having lost the one person that would have worked with him to form an equal partnership.

Then he’d gotten the call, Stiles’ voice broken in a way that had made Derek want to shift an tear things apart in anger. Lydia had rejected his marriage proposal (a plan that had had Derek shifted and running through the preserve for three days) and Stiles miserable. Derek had done what any good friend would do and let Stiles cry on his shoulder and built him back up again and now he was his old self. The only problem was that his old self was precisely who Derek was more than a little obsessed with. 

He growled, giving the white swirls around his feet a disgusted look before shaking the rest of his semen off his hand. He really should have more control, but listening to Stiles’ heartbeat in the room next to him, hearing him breathe and move around his den was driving Derek crazy. It was compounded by how Stiles had grown into himself, broad shouldered and at ease with himself, his ozone and citrus scent seeping into everything and making Derek want to grab him and kiss him, maybe bend him over and fuck him until they were both howling. 

He really needed to do something about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh these idiot boys... *cackles evilly* I don't normally like to torture them but Marigold's prompt was too good to pass up lol. You are an evil genius my dear :DDD

On the Wednesday, Derek had to go shopping. He mentioned this casually over breakfast, hoping against hope that Stiles would want to keep playing his game and so Derek would have a precious hour to himself. An hour where he could get the scent of Stiles out of his nose and get a grip on his emotions. 

It had only been three days, but having Stiles in the house was making him weak. He wanted so badly to just confess, to tell Stiles what he was feeling but every time he made even the smallest move in Stiles’ direction he flinched away. Derek put it down to him still feeling a little fragile after Lydia and that broke his heart. So he restrained himself and tried to put more distance between them and he was feeling more and more miserable that Stiles clearly would never return his feelings. He’d never ever been afraid of Derek but this new hesitance made everything feel overly fraught. 

To his horror though, Stiles actually seemed quite keen to go to the store with him and Derek could have kicked himself for even mentioning it and not just leaving. Now they were trawling up and down the aisles, Stiles chattering aimlessly as he put stuff in the cart that was loaded with sugar and which Derek removed and replaced on the shelves as they passed. It was so comfortable, just the two of them, and that was why Derek wasn’t paying attention until the cart bumped into Stiles, who’d stopped dead. He glanced up and saw someone at the end of the aisle, grinning an unfairly attractive dimple smile and making all of Derek’s hackles stand up at how his dark eyes were fixed on…

‘Stiles?’ The man started forward and something scratched at Derek’s mind as he caught the man’s scent. When recognition hit, it was with the extremely unpleasant memory of being used.

‘Danny?’ Stiles looked equally surprised, but there was also a sugary hit of happiness running through his scent. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you were in San Francisco.’

‘I’m visiting my moms.’ Danny replied, coming forward and Derek had to resist the urge to get between them. ‘Damn, you look good. The FBI agrees with you.’ 

Derek was about to snort derisively when he heard the odd little uptick in Stiles’ heartbeat and his stomach twisted in mild panic when he saw how a light flush was creeping into Stiles’ cheeks. Of course, Scott had regaled them with the stories of how Stiles had obsessed over Danny at school, and it looked like maybe he hadn’t quite gotten over that. 

‘Thanks.’ Stiles raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck, a clear tell he was feeling flustered. ‘How long are you in town for?’

‘A couple of days.’ Danny replied, his eyes skirting past him to give Derek a thorough up and down. ‘Guess you two finally hooked up huh? I heard about what happened with Lydia so good for you for getting back on the horse.’ 

It took a moment for what he’d said to sink in and Derek was about to smile broadly at the implication that he and Stiles were together when Stiles started laughing, brash and loud and as fake as hell. 

‘What us?’ He shook his head violently. ‘No. God no. Derek and I are just friends.’ His voice and scent were both tinged with desperation, and it was unspeakably ugly. 

Derek felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water in his face. He’d been so stupid thinking that Stiles felt anything apart from friendship for him, that much was now blatantly clear. 

‘Yeah.’ He didn’t even bother to hide how flat his voice was. ‘Just friends.’ He steered the cart around them both. ‘So feel free to make whatever plans you want.’ 

He didn’t look back, too afraid of what he might see, and stomped off to the produce section. Stiles could date whoever he wanted, even dimpled assholes who ogled people without permission. 

-

Stiles was crushed. 

It was monumentally obvious that he’d just fucked up. Like could-be-seen-from-space obvious. He hadn’t meant to act like an idiot but the last thing he’d wanted was for Derek to realise just how much he wanted him and so he’d been extra careful the last couple of days to act as casual as possible, even though on the inside he was crying out to just tell Derek everything he was feeling. And yes, maybe he’d gone a little overboard with trying to avoid Derek getting close, terrified he’d smell how Stiles was feeling or hear how his traitorous heart picked up pace. 

Now though, it seemed that he’d just gone and made it worse by waiting too long to say that they were just friends and letting Danny get the wrong idea. Derek was probably pissed because Stiles had let Danny make assumptions and obviously he wasn’t hiding his feelings very well if Danny could tell what was going on just from one look at them. What made it even worse was that he’d have walked over hot coals for the appreciative look Danny was giving him when they were in high school, but now it just left him cold. 

‘Stiles?’ Danny came up to him, glancing back over his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.’ He gave Stiles sympathetic look. ‘Guess sometimes you never get over the one that got away, huh?’

‘What?’ Stiles frowned and Danny smiled at him. 

‘You were crazy about him and it looks like you still are.’ he replied. ‘You could gut the goddamn UST with a knife that day you blackmailed me into helping you.’  
‘Blackmail is such an ugly word.’ Stiles grumbled. ‘I like to think of it as providing the proper motivation.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Guess I’m kind of obvious. The worst part is that he doesn’t even remotely think about me like that and he probably never will. Just another crush on someone so out of my league it’s stupid to even try.’ 

‘You’re kidding, right?’ Danny snorted. ‘I don’t know if you looked in the mirror lately, but you got hot Stiles. I’d hit that in a second if I didn’t have that to compete with.’ He jerked a thumb in the direction Derek had gone. 

‘Really?’ It was small consolation, but consolation nonetheless and Stiles found himself smiling. ‘Thanks, man. That does make me feel less like a loser.’

‘Look.’ Danny shoved his hand in his pocket and took out his phone. ‘Give me your number and we can grab a drink later, if you want. Catch up on all my bullshit and your bullshit and talk about we both fall in love with assholes.’

‘That sounds like the best offer I’ve had all week.’ Stiles laughed and took it from him to program his number in. 

-

Derek got as far as the avocados and then berated himself for being an immature idiot. Sighing, he turned the car around and headed back in Stiles’ direction, trying to come up with a cover story for his bad behaviour. 

He got to the aisle and was surprised to see Danny still standing there with Stiles. Then he caught a tail end of conversation and inhaled sharply when he saw Stiles hand back Danny's phone with that adorably awkward crooked grin he had and which Derek was secretly weak for. 

‘So you’ll call me?’ he asked and Danny nodded. 

‘I’m thinking Gino’s?’ he asked. ‘You still like Italian food, right?’

‘Hell yeah.’ Stiles was now beaming and Derek ducked back behind the stack of tomato soup cans and gritted his teeth to keep the shift in. ‘It’s a date.’ 

‘I’ll see you tonight then.’ Danny said and Derek heard him move off down the aisle. When he peeked back around, Stiles had an odd little smile on his face. Then he looked up and saw Derek peering at him and it slid right off again. 

Derek didn’t have a single thing to come back with to that so he did the only thing he could think of and abandoned his cart and stormed towards the exit, completely ignoring Stiles’ call behind him.   
He knew it was a terrible way to deal with his problems but Derek had never been one for healthy coping mechanisms. 

-

Stiles parked the Jeep outside the pack house and got out, lugging shopping bags onto the front porch one after the other. He got the door open and stuck his head inside, trepidation making his skin feel tight. 

‘Derek?’ he called, still baffled by what he could have done to make him so angry that he’d run off from the store parking lot without so much as telling Stiles where he was going. 

‘Not here!’ a familiar voice called and footsteps followed soon after to reveal Cora. She had cut her hair short and was rocking a new lip ring and Stiles smiled at her. 

‘Hi.’ He gave her a little wave. ‘You home for the weekend early?’

‘Yeah.’ Cora leaned against the doorframe, the spitting image of her brother, and eyed the groceries. ‘You planning on eating all that.’

Stiles looked at the bags around his feet. He’d maybe panicked a little after Derek’s departure and so had overcompensated on red meat and dark chocolate, both Derek’s favourites. 

‘Um.’ He blew out a deep breath and then made a face. ‘I think I’ve really pissed your brother off.’ 

‘Oh no.’ Cora deadpanned. ‘How could that possibly have happened?’

‘Shut up mini-Hale.’ Stiles wrung his hands. ‘I’m serious. He ran off from the store. Like totally bolted.’

Cora frowned. 

‘He left the car and everything.’ Stiles flailed at the groceries. ‘Including me!’

‘What did you do?’ Cora asked, finally coming over to help and putting Stiles to shame by picking up all the bags on her own and carrying them to the kitchen. He trotted after her, looking the very image of despondancy. 

‘I don’t know.’ he said and she raised an eyebrow at him. 

‘Lie.’

‘Ugh fine.’ Stiles huffed. ‘But you have to promise not to tell.’ 

That got the other eyebrow raised and Stiles was not ashamed to admit he was and forever had been intimidated by the formidable Hale eyebrow game. He caved and started talking. 

An hour and three cups of coffee later the groceries were all packed away and Cora was regarding him in disgust. 

‘You know what,’ she all but snarled. ‘I don’t have words for how stupid you both are. I’m washing my hands of this whole sorry debacle. If you need me, I’ll be over at Peter’s drinking all his wine and talking about what morons the two of you are. I’m sure he’ll commiserate.’ 

She stomped out the kitchen leaving Stiles to gape after her before slumping on his kitchen stool. 

‘Goddammit.’ he muttered. ‘Fucking Hales.’

He finally made it upstairs after Danny texted him to say he’d pick him up at eight. Stiles replied and sighed as he went to his room, stopping just once to look at Derek’s closed door. He walked the five steps that separated them, gently pushing on it when he saw it was ajar, peeking inside and getting a noseful of Derek’s unique smell. It was a mix of his cologne and that earthy animal scent that marked him as a werewolf and Stiles breathed in greedily from the doorway. Derek’s room was surprisingly normal for a creature of the night with a wooden platform bed dressed in navy blue, softy dark grey walls and an abundance of books. Stiles stared at the bed, wondering how soft it was and what it would be like to share it with Derek, basking in his werewolf heat that he radiated like a furnace and breathing him in up close. 

Not that he’d ever get the chance now. 

Stiles made a sad little noise and pulled the door closed behind him, trudging off to his room to shower and get ready. The least he could do was make himself presentable even if he was miserable. A night gossiping with Danny was going to at least take his mind off things a little and he’d be an idiot to pass up Gino’s linguine with clams. 

At eight o’clock Stiles was ready. He’d made an effort, wearing his nicest, cleanest jeans and a black button down, rolling up the sleeves as he made his way downstairs. The noise of a car alerted him to Danny’s arrival and he went out on the front porch, jumping the last two steps out of habit smiling when Danny got out to greet him. 

‘You clean up well.’ he said and Stiles gave a dry chuckle. 

‘Not well enough for some.’ he remarked wryly and Danny snorted. 

‘They’re an idiot for passing you up.’ he said. ‘Now get your cute ass in the car so I can show you a good time.’

That made Stiles laugh for real, even more so when Danny made a show of going around and opening the door for him. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Unfortunately for him, he completely missed the gleam of red eyes in the trees just beyond the house.

-

Derek watched them go, equal parts distraught and furious. He’d been too slow, too timid, and now Danny had swooped in and swept Stiles out from right under his nose. He stormed into the house, almost taking the door off its hinges as he rampaged up the stairs. 

If Stiles wanted to move on with someone who wasn’t him, then Derek was more than capable of playing the same game. He just needed to find someone he could pretend with for one night and it would make everything better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. But there was too much plot LOL. I promise the next chapter will BE NOTHING BUT PORN!

It turned out that Danny was remarkably good company for the emotionally bereft. He was funny and supportive as Stiles poured his heart out, chin cupped in his hand as he listened. Eventually he took a long drink from his glass of red wine and gave Stiles a slightly judgemental eyebrow. 

‘Okay so here’s a shot in the dark.’ he said. ‘But maybe you should just tell him how you feel.’

‘What?’ Stiles screeched, startling their waiter into nearly upending Danny’s tiramisu in his lap. He apologised and scuttled off and Stiles felt an urge to slump face first into his gelato. 

‘It can’t be that bad.’ Danny was licking the back of his spoon. ‘Derek’s not as scary as you seem to think he is.’

‘Ha.’ Stiles stabbed at the ball of chocolate gelato, chasing it around his bowl. ‘You don’t know him. He’s been through so much and I just don’t want to go in guns blazing and have him eat me out of sheer fright.’

‘You’re ridiculous.’ Danny said fondly. ‘And I don’t know why you think he would. Jackson says he’s seriously mellowed.’ The last was said with a wicked grin and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. 

‘You’ve been holding out on me.’ he accused and Danny snorted. 

‘I may know a little more about the situation that I let on.’ he replied. ‘Enough to say that from what I hear, you really should tell him what you think.’

‘Not enough wine in California.’ Stiles said gravely and emptied his glass for emphasis. 

They ended the evening with a car ride home gossiping about Jackson and Ethan and Danny’s opinion on the whole relationship. 

‘He’s good for him.’ he said, but Stiles heard a little bit of melancholy creep into his voice and realisation came in like a ton of bricks. 

‘Oh my God.’ He grinned like a lunatic at him. ‘Is it one or both?’

‘No.’ Danny looked a little wild eyed at being caught out. ‘I mean, neither. Shit. I’ve had too much wine.’

‘Liar.’ Stiles waggled his eyebrows at him. ‘And you have the nerve to tell me to put my ass on the line. Maybe you should be giving yourself a pep talk.’

He kept staring at Danny who finally caved, and sighed heavily. 

‘I will if you will.’ he said as he pulled up in front of the Hale house and Stiles held out his fist for him to bump.

‘No takesies backsies.’ he yelled gleefully and then fell out the passenger side, barely making it back onto his feet before Danny was choking he was laughing so hard. 

‘Asshole.’ he muttered, closing the door, and waving as Danny pulled off. 

Inside the house was dark and Stiles frowned. Cora had clearly gone through with her threat and was probably on Peter’s couch. They had an odd relationship now, antagonistic and devoted all at the same time in a way that completely baffled him. Derek’s absence though was both a boon and a disappointment and he climbed the steps wondering where the hell Derek could be. He did stop to peek out the window on the landing, noting the absence of Derek’s car and sighed unhappily, weaving his lonely way to his room. 

Stiles got undressed and contemplated what he was going to do. He couldn’t exactly level up and confront Derek when he wasn’t there. He threw himself on the bed and lay there in the dark, feeling completely morose. 

A beam of light and the familiar growl on an engine woke him from a deep sleep some time later and Stiles blinked, muzzy from the wine and confused by what he was hearing. There was the distinct sound of two voices downstairs and he sat up, not sure what was going on. He had a weird thought that maybe it was an emergency, after all why else would Derek be bringing someone home with him in what was clearly the middle of the night.

He got up, reaching for the baseball bat that was always under his bed and crept out of the room, taking care to move as stealthily as possible down the corridor and to the landing. From there, Stiles could see that one of the living room lights was on, maybe the small lamp by the fireside armchair judging from the soft glow. 

Then he heard it. 

Stiles had wondered many many times what Derek would sound like if he was ever brave enough to make his feelings known and just jump him. Stiles had always imagined the soft growls and deep rumbles a happy werewolf might make and the fact that he was making them now when it was blatantly not with Stiles had him doing something he would never have been brave enough to do if he hadn’t been driven to the point of possible madness by what he was hearing. 

He all but stormed into the living room and stopped dead. It was even worse than he thought. Derek had always tended towards beautiful women and part of the reason Stiles had hesitated was because he’d never really figured out if Derek swung in different directions but now he sure as hell had his answer. Not only that, but the man currently perched on Derek’s lap, with Derek’s mouth on his and Derek’s hands under his shirt, was not only very clearly male but also a goddamn dead ringer for himself. 

Stiles couldn’t move, frozen to the spot. He stared and stared and watched the way Derek dominated the kiss he had the man pinned in, the hungry way his hands roamed and the way his hips rolled up and made the man gasp. He couldn’t help it, his brain completely shorted out by what he was seeing. Even though it wasn’t him who was on the receiving end, it was so hot that he got hard and not even halfway. He was at rock hard standing proud attention and everything inside him wanted to go grab the man and throw him off, taking his place and letting Derek do what he wanted to him. 

Of course, his traitorous body would do nothing of the kind and his even more traitorous cock refused to go down so Stiles took an executive decision, hurled the baseball bat at the lamp and yelled his frustration loud and clear before he took off for the stairs. 

After all he probably only had a few minutes left to live. 

-

Derek had a moment of momentary confusion. 

The man he’d picked up at the Jungle (and who knew that fucking place was still going, but there it was) had looked right, with pale skin and the requisite number of moles. His eyes weren’t quite the right shade of whisky and caramel and his scent was more floral than citrus but Derek just wanted someone close enough that he could pretend. If he closed his eyes and used his imagination, then it could be Stiles writhing in his lap and kissing him back. 

It seemed to be working because even as he kissed the man deeper and thrust up against him, the scent in Derek’s nose changed to that zingy lightning scent that Stiles carried, now edged with syrupy arousal and the tang of precome, so heady that it made him almost lose control. 

His senses picked up on movement too late to stop what was happening, the lamp next to him shattering in a spray of ceramic as something hit it with a metallic clang, followed by a surprisingly deep bellow that he immediately identified as an angry Stiles. Derek shoved the man off his lap (Christ, he didn’t even know his fucking name) just in time to see Stiles hightail it out the living room like the Ghost Riders were behind him. 

‘Hey!’ The man sprawled on the floor blinked up at him, pouting when Derek didn’t move to get up. In his defense, he was still boggled at what he’d just smelled, the thick scent of Stiles’ obvious physical interest still curling through the air. Derek didn’t know how much he’d seen but the little shit had clearly been getting off on it and that was the final fucking straw. That scent and the knowledge that Stiles was aroused by him let loose every feral instinct Derek had and he shifted and roared, not caring about the cowering human that was now racing for the door. It rattled the windows and sent the heartbeat upstairs racing even more than it was and Derek was on the move with his next breath. He didn’t bother with the stairs, leaping from the hall over the bannister of the galleried landing to land with a thump just behind a squawking Stiles, who raced the last few steps and threw his door closed. 

Derek snarled, gone on the way his prey had run from him and driven by a lust already fueled by the man from earlier. He threw himself against the door and heard Stiles meep inside, clawing frantically at the wood. It started to give and Derek finished it off with a drive from his shoulder, breaking through and almost going ass over teakettle into the room. 

Stiles was on the bed, the comforter gathered to him like a Victorian maiden surprised in her boudoir. He threw out one hand and Derek roared at him again, spittle flying as his eyes burned red. 

‘I’m sorry!’ Stiles babbled frantically. ‘I didn’t mean to spy! I promise!’ His scent was now a mix of sweet and sour, arousal and guilt all curdled together and that just wouldn’t do. 

‘Stiles!’ Derek yelled and that got him to shut up. He looked ashamed of himself but there was no acrid stink of fear, not like the other man who'd bolted and who’d probably wake up having nightmares for a week after almost going to bed with a monster. 

It hit Derek right at that moment. There had never been fear, not even when Derek was slamming Stiles up against the wall or demanding his cut off his arm. Stiles had never seen him as a monster, had never ever been afraid of his other face. Even now, when he was on the bed and trembling in a way that made Derek want to tear him apart, it was from desire and not terror. 

How had he never seen it before?

‘Stiles.’ It came out softer, the consonants lisped around his fangs and Stiles drew in a little hiccuping breath and that was all it took. Derek leaped from the oor to the bed, landing so he was crouched over him and Stiles heart nearly jackrabbited out of his chest it was beating so fast when he pressed a clawed hand to Stiles’ chest. His scent thickened until it felt like it was coating Derek’s tongue as he drew in the air between them and when their eyes locked, he saw something there he’d never expected to. 

Nobody had looked at him like that since Paige and even that paled into memory when he was faced with those warm brown eyes that held nothing but acceptance and loyalty and what looked an awful lot like it could be love. 

‘You have one chance to say no.’ he growled. ‘One chance before we start this and I break you apart.’ 

The smile that lit up Stiles’ face was incandescent. Derek never quite got over just how beautiful he was and his own heart thumped in time with the one under his palm. He lifted a hand to take Derek’s, bringing it to his mouth and kissing his way up one finger to curl his tongue around Derek’s claw. 

‘Do your worst, big guy.’ he purred. 

‘Fuck.’ Derek scented the air, dragging in a deep breath and then blowing it out again. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah?’ Stiles frowned a little and Derek wanted to smooth it away. If he could make it so, Stiles would never frown or look unhappy ever again. ‘In case you missed the very obvious memo, I think I’m in love with you and your furry ass. Christ knows I want your dick in me like yesterday.’ 

Derek really didn’t have any comeback to that so he did the next best thing and just kissed him. Stiles melted underneath him, long legs coming up to yank Derek down on top of him. He was all quicksilver movement, not waiting before his tongue was pushing past Derek’s lips and mapping out his mouth, his other hand coming up to wrap around the nape of Derek’s neck in a way that was so possessive it made Derek want to howl with pure joy at the way his mate was accepting him. He growled and felt Stiles smile against his mouth, pulling him in even closer until all Derek could smell was him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laaast chapter :DDDD Okay trigger warnings for y'all. 
> 
> Knotting. Talk of knocking Stiles up with cubs. Breeding kink. Lots and lots of dorkiness. 
> 
> Also I'm under lockdown, Shark Week is impending and making me horny and teaching online is rotting my brain. No judgement LOL.

Stiles had had many many fantasies when he was a horny teenager and for two years they had been completely focused on Derek. He’d gone through every possibility, thought about how Derek would feel under his hands and how he’d sound, what he’d do and the reality was blowing away every expectation he’d had. 

Derek was an odd combination of rough and gentle, like he was teetering on the edge of not being able to control himself. His teeth scraped over Stiles’ neck and he arched up, moaning when he felt the very obvious bulge in Derek’s jeans. 

‘Fuck.’ His hands scrabbled at Derek’s t-shirt, sliding underneath and feeling satiny skin and flexing muscle. ‘God, please don’t let this be a hallucination from too much gelato.’

‘Jesus.’ Derek growled into his neck. ‘Eight fucking years and I still don’t know how the fuck your brain works.’ 

Stiles cringed on the inside, ready to pull away but suddenly Derek was back in front of him. His eyes were burning like embers and he gently nudged Stiles’ nose with his. 

‘Not like that, asshole.’ He smiled and Stiles’s breathing caught. ‘I love it. I love how crazy you are and how smart you are and how much you care about the pack. Fuck, I just love you.’ 

‘Oh.’ Stiles stared at him. ‘You love me?’

‘In case you didn’t get the memo.’ Derek replied, the words edged with laughter and affection. ‘Can I fuck you now?’

‘Yes.’ Stiles nodded so hard his head felt like it might fall off. He wanted it all and he knew that provoking Derek always got a response so he tilted his head back, exposing his neck. Derek growled, low and dangerous and then he was sitting back up on his haunches, claws making short work of Stiles’ t-shirt. 

‘Take them fucking off.’ He eyes flared. ‘Now.’

‘Oh fuck.’ Stales was panting hard, barely able to breathe, he was so hopelessly excited. He struggled with his boxers, his erect cock making it awkward until Derek lost patience, sliding a claw underneath the fabric and cutting it as neatly as a pair of shears and then yanking them off and tossing them over his shoulder. His eyes fixed on Stiles’ cock and his nostrils flared. This time his smile had fangs in it. 

‘You smell so fucking good.’ He started undoing his belt. ‘I can’t tell you how crazy you make me, smelling like that. Since the beginning, when you were that skinny little shit stomping all over my territory like you owned the goddamn place. I couldn’t let you in because you were still too young and I wasn’t going to be her, but it never fucking went away.’   
Stiles goggled at him. 

‘Are you kidding me? You mean we could have been fucking this whole time?’ His whole face creased up and he kicked out, aiming for Derek’s ribs but getting nowhere because Derek caught his foot and pulled him up, laughing as he gently bit the side of it. 

‘I don’t want to just fuck.’ He held onto Stiles’ foot, strong thumbs pushing into the arch and turning Stiles to jelly. ‘That’s what I’m saying. Your scent is special. You smell like mate.’ 

Stiles had to blink hard a few times as that processed. Of course he’d researched mates. Scott’s constant whininess about Allison had driven him to it, although he’d never had to tell Scott that what he’d been feeling was just plain old teenage obsession. Peter had been the one to finally talk to him about it and about his mate Alex, who’d died in the fire and been the driving force behind much of his mental breakdown. He’d explained how wolves could meet someone who had mate potential and how they’d bond stronger than anything humans had. Mate bonds were deeper than pack, deeper than anything and it was why, even now, Peter still disappeared on certain days that corresponded to birthdays and anniversaries and ran the woods, howling for the man he’d lost. 

Now Derek was looking at him like he was the most precious thing he’d ever seen and was telling him he smelled like mate and Stiles was overwhelmed. 

‘What if I wanted to be?’ he asked. ‘What if I wanted you to mate with me?’

‘Fuck.’ Derek dropped his foot and came to lean over him again. ‘Don’t kid around. I’m barely holding on here.’

That set Stiles’ blood on fire. He very deliberately locked eyes with Derek and let his legs fall open. 

‘Do what you want to me.’ His voice was rough with want. 

‘You don’t know what you’re asking me.’ Derek’s face shifted briefly, as if he’d had a lapse in concentration. ‘What this means to a werewolf.’

‘It means you have the biological drive to mate with me.’ Stiles replied. ‘Everything about you is screaming to turn me over, fuck my ass and knot the hell out of me.’ He smiled wickedly, licking his lips in anticipation. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve read all about it.’ 

‘Of course you have.’ Derek snarled. ‘I bet you’ve probably fucked yourself on your fingers thinking about it too.’ 

‘More times than you know, Sourwolf.’ Stiles arched up, taking his cock on one hand and stroking slowly, drawing it out and watching how Derek’s eyes tracked the movement. ‘And every time it was your knot I was thinking about.’ 

Derek’s growl ascended into another of those bone rattling roars, his head tipped back as he made his claim known. It thrilled Stiles right through him and he lay and watched as Derek ripped his shirt off, jeans following suit until he was kneeling rampant above him. His cock was every bit as magnificent as he was and Stiles could already see a hint of the tell tale swelling at its base. He leaned up enough to reach with a tentative hand, fingers wrapping around the uncut length and feeling the way it flexed in his grip, already wet enough that the foreskin moved easily with his motions. Derek came back down over him, knocking Stiles’ other hand away to replace it with his own, both of them lost in each other’s eyes as they built up speed. 

Stiles gasped when Derek got in close enough for them to share breath. 

‘I wish I could get wet for you.’ he panted. ‘Like a proper bitch.’ 

Derek’s smile was crooked. 

‘I can make you wet.’ He moved in, nosing along the line of Stiles’ throat. ‘Use my mouth on you, make you scream. You want that?’

He licked a broad wet stripe up Stiles’ neck, sharp fangs tracing delicate lines over his rocketing pulse. He’d never tried rimming, but it had been central to more than one of his dirtier fantasies. 

‘You really know what to say, huh?’ He asked and Derek came back up. This time he kissed Stiles, coaxing his mouth open with deft tongue and mapping out his mouth. When he pulled back, there was a silvery line of spit connecting them and it made Stiles’ cock twitch. He thrust into Derek’s hand and then yelped when he was suddenly flipped, landing with his face in the pillow. 

Derek rumbled deep in his chest and started dropping kisses along his shoulders, culminating in a long drag of tongue down his spine until he was at Stiles’ ass, pushing his legs apart and breathing in deeply. 

‘You smell best here.’ he purred. I can’t wait to find out what you taste like.’ 

Stiles bundled the pillow in his arms, moaning into it when Derek opened him up and breathed on him. There was a light flick of tongue and it tickled but also felt amazing and he pushed back, meeting Derek’s open mouth. It got dirty fast, Derek licking at a steady pace interspersed with the same light flicks until Stiles was almost crying, rocking his hips into the bed and on the verge of coming. Derek pressed his tongue inside and it felt longer and more insistent and Stiles knew he was shifted, the very thought making him whimper. 

Derek pulled back, claws pricking Stiles’ skin where he was holding his thighs open. 

‘Do that again.’ he snarled. ‘Whine for me.’

‘Oh God.’ Stiles groaned into the pillow. He let out another noise completely unbidden when Derek moved over him, rubbing his cock against Stiles’ ass, the head catching ever so slightly. He was gloriously wet, precome smearing Stiles’ skin with wetness. He relaxed and let it happen, his body well used to being penetrated from his own solo adventures and on the next thrust, Stiles tilted his hips and the head of Derek’s cock when in. There was that delicious burn and Stiles tried to get up, to lean back into it and let Derek breach him completely, but he was suddenly pinned by a big hand pressing between his shoulder blades. 

‘Stay.’ Derek gritted out. There was a brief flurry of movement as he yanked the drawer out of the nightstand and came back with lube. Stiles twisted as best he could to see Derek literally biting the end off before it got emptied all over his ass, dripping down and making him even wetter. There was a dull thunk as the lube was hurled at the wall and then he was being turned again and hauled up, one arm around his waist as Derek positioned him over his cock. Stiles got a glimpse of it and braced his feet on the bed as Derek thrust up, sliding home with a wet squelch and the sudden rush of every inch going in to the hilt. He grabbed at Derek’s shoulder, digging his nails in and holding on for dear life as Derek started fucking him, knee walking them both so Stiles’ back was braced against the wall behind the bed. 

He opened his eyes to see Derek fully shifted. He had both hands under Stiles’ thighs, keeping him open as he drove in deep and hard, powerful thrusts filling him to the brink. Stiles moved, tilting his hips so that Derek’s cock was sliding over his prostate and locking his feet arund Derek’s thighs to keep him as deep as he could. Derek responded by growling up a storm, one hand coming to brace them against the wall as he scented him roughly, scraping his face against Stiles’ neck. His hips sped up to the frantic speed of a mating wolf, and he started whining into Stiles’ neck. 

‘Stiles.’ He sounded utterly wrecked. ‘Fuck, it’s coming…’

Stiles could feel it, the thickening at the base of Derek’s cock rapidly expanding until Derek finally drove home with one vicious thrust and it popped inside him, locking them together. He cried out, unable to even push back anymore as he was pinned against the wall and on Derek’s knot. 

‘God…’ He could barely breathe. ‘Jesus Derek, you feel so fucking good.’

‘Going to keep you here.’ Derek was muttering. He didn’t sound anywhere even close to human anymore. ‘Keep us tied until you’re bred.’ He was grinding in hard and every bruising push had Stiles’ eyes rolling back in his head. ‘Fuck you until it takes and you’re pupped. Want to watch you whelp my cubs.’ He pulled back and Stiles met his eyes feeling incredibly powerful at the reverent way Derek was looking at him. 

‘I wish I could.’ He licked at Derek’s mouth, eliciting a choked off whine. ‘I want you to come in me, all the way inside. Want you to knock me up with a whole litter of your cubs.’

‘Oh fuck.’ It seemed even Derek had his limits because that made him shudder all over, his eyes flaring as he came, back bowed and cock in as far as he could get. Stiles felt the pressure build inside him, the odd feeling of being filled. He reached down between them, taking his own cock in hand and jerking frantically even as Derek never seemed to stop coming, riding the edge perfectly until it hit and made him clench down around the thick cock inside him. It was stupidly intense, easily the most intense orgasm he’d ever had and Stiles rode it out until something inside him pulled and he tilted his head, the sticky wet slip slide of their bodies and his frantic breathing the only sound he heard. 

‘Do it.’ he panted. ‘Finish it.’

Derek growled, the vibrations travelling along Stiles skin as he licked over him once, fangs sinking in on the next pass. It was like a lightning strike to Stiles’ senses, knocking him into a feedback loop of pleasure that had him coming again completely untouched. Derek threw back his head, howling out his pleasure until Stiles finally stopped shaking. He was exhausted, literally hanging off Derek’s knot and a mess of sweat and come and lube, blood running down his collar bone where Derek lapped it up with his broad tongue before cleaning up the bite. It seemed like it was forever before the colour and sound bled back into Stiles’ world and he smiled giddily. 

‘Wolf’s got some skills.’ he said, his voice was weak as a newborn kitten. ‘Goddamn.’

‘Are you okay?’ Derek sounded worried and Stiles blinked a few times to clear his vision and then nodded hazily. 

‘Fine.’ He was slurring. ‘What the fuck is that?’ He then noticed the black lines on Derek’s arms. 

‘It helps the mating bite heal.’ Derek nuzzled him. ‘You need to sleep.’ He gently lowered them to the bed, turning so Stiles was sprawled over him and resting comfortably. He shivered when Stiles dragged his fingertips through the thick hair on his chest, teasing a nipple. 

‘You still coming?’ He was wildly curious but also about to pass out. 

‘Mmmm.’ Derek ran his claws delicately down his back. ‘I wasn’t kidding about wanting to breed you.’ 

‘Good thing, I’m lacking equipment then.’ Stiles snickered. ‘I’d be pupped for sure at this rate.’ He yawned enormously. ‘Why did this take so long again?’

‘I’m pretty sure if you ask the pack they’ll say it’s because we’re idiots.’ Derek snuffled his hair. ‘Now go to sleep. Matings tend to last a couple of days at least and I’m going to be ready to fuck you again pretty soon.’ 

‘Nice.’ Stiles mumbled and closed his eyes. 

-

Cora got back in the morning and opened the front door, inhaling a faceful of mating stink and promptly shutting it again. 

‘Derek, you asshole.’ she said, knowing her brother would be able to hear her. She’d picked up the change in his heartbeat from sleep to wakefulness the moment she’d got out the car. ‘Where the hell am I supposed to go?’

‘Go stay at Peter’s.’ Derek was sleepy and sated and she hated the fact that she now knew what his sex voice sounded like. ‘I’m sure he’s still got some wine left.’ 

Cora smiled. He sounded deliriously happy and that made her happy in turn. She went back to the car, hesitating once before she got in. 

‘It’s about time, big brother.’ she replied. ‘For both of you.’

Derek’s affectionate growl was the last thing she heard before she started the engine, pulling off and headed to the bakery that she and Peter preferred. If she was going to be his house pest for a few days, she’d need to go bearing gifts.


End file.
